From the Ashes
by Ms Morpheus
Summary: Phoenix Shepard has been resurrected to fight the Reapers, and discovers new feelings for an old friend. FemShepxGarrus. Inspired by ME2, not a strict retelling. Rated M for eventual citrus and language.
1. Adrift

**I loved ME2, but wanted something a bit different from the relationship between Shep and Garrus (forehead touching scene aside *sigh*.) I've modified the story as I saw fit: I really couldn't help myself. Phoenix Shepard is a paragon biotic badass, and not quite human in a few ways.**

**Garrus and anything you recognize from Mass Effect belong to Bioware.**

* * *

So much room. In all her life, Shepard never had so much space she could claim as her own, and it was _suffocating._ As a child, she'd squeezed into whatever spaces she could find between subterranean heating vents, pressing her tiny body against the warm metal, letting the gentle rumble lull her to sleep. Enlisting in the military meant having her own cot and locker, and although she was surrounded by thousands of other recruits she began to understand the concept of personal space, of ownership. She remembered her first night, tightly tucked between the rough sheets, staring at the top bunk and savouring the knowledge that out of the entire galaxy this space was hers and hers alone. This was where she belonged. Even her cabin on the first Normandy felt like a cocoon, with its single bed and little desk, a hollow nestled in the vast expanse of the warship. Her new home, this palatial suite atop the SR2, she didn't know what to do with. The eerie blue light from the empty fish tank felt cold and menacing. She lay in the middle of the double bed, pulled her knees to her chest, and shivered. _What have I gotten myself into?_

0200h. Precious few hours until she was expected to rise, dress, and emerge from her quarters as Commander Shepard. Fearless, infallible, indestructible Commander Shepard, an impossible symbol made flesh and blood by the minds and hearts of billions who believed in her. Soon she would steel herself and put on the mask anew, but for now she was free to let her mind digest the chaos of recent events. _Try to think, Phoenix. What happened before you died?_

* * *

Relief washed over her as she tossed Joker's broken body into the escape pod. Everyone still living had been evacuated, every crewman who could be saved was accounted for. _Not like Virmire. Never again._ Satisfaction mixed with sadness as she moved to join her pilot and abandon the disintegrating husk of the Normandy. A flash of light blinded her, and she was overcome with vertigo as she felt herself spin uncontrollably in zero-gee. She lashed out with both arms, managing to hit the pod's release, sending Joker hurtling down to the planet below. Horror crept in as her vision returned, the last gleaming splinters of her beautiful ship being enveloped in fiery halos as they plummeted through the atmosphere. The blast had thrown her clear, floating through the emptiness, and her heart sank as she recognized the barely perceptible hiss of a suit breach. A flash of blue, and a biotic seal closed the leak momentarily, but Shepard knew her remaining air wouldn't last long. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to focus, slowing her respiration and heart rate, trying to make the most of her last minutes.

Meditating deeply, she allowed her cybernetic interface to flow into her consciousness. _This couldn't possibly work_, she thought, _but it has to work_. Until now her circuits functioned mainly as auxiliary storage, allowing her to absorb and access vast data, like an omni-tool jacked directly into her mind. Only a few in the Alliance knew of her enhancements, mostly top brass and Dr. Chakwas, but her photographic memory and encyclopedic knowledge were legendary. Now she needed to reverse the flow, willing her electronics to upload the contents of her organic brain, converting billions of synapses into binary data. Copying herself. _Was this even possible? _Her mind fogged as hypoxia overtook her, softly blurring reality and filling her with peace. Adrift in the darkness, she used her last shreds of consciousness to send a message to her dearest friend, in case her efforts failed. One final flash of biotic energy, and the crude image of a cherry blossom was burned onto her chestplate, a reminder of a conversation they'd had the last time she thought she was going to die.

* * *

Only a few hours left until they'd hit the Mu relay, launching the crew of the Normandy toward unknown horrors and certain death. She'd tried to calm herself with meditation, but the gravity and urgency of the mission kept breaking her concentration. Shepard unbound herself from the lotus position and realized she'd begun to pace around her quarters again. Frustrated, she headed to the galley to rummage through the cupboards for anything that would give her comfort. She noticed Kaidan wasn't at his usual post, a sly smile creeping across her lips. He'd been so dogged in his pursuit of her, inevitably misinterpreting her attempts to be friendly and sympathetic, until she'd finally had to tell him point blank that she wasn't interested in him romantically. Not that he wasn't sweet, and most of the female crew were gaga over him, but he seemed more like a big brother to her. She'd noticed him chatting often with one of her ensigns lately, and it made her happy to think he might not be spending these last hours alone. He wasn't the only one: the galley and mess were empty as everyone had withdrawn for sleep or private pursuits.

Shepard poured boiling water into a mug and began searching the galley for an elusive packet of hot chocolate. Clawing at the back of a lower compartment, her fingers seized their prize triumphantly, when a sudden tap on her shoulder caused her to whip around sharply, banging her elbow on the underside of the countertop as she turned to face her assailant.

"Sorry", said Garrus, "I was trying not to startle you".

"Ungh." Shepard rubbed her ulnar nerve, the painful paresthesia clearing her mind of darker thoughts.

"Can't sleep?" she said, "or are you just trying to soften me up for Saren?"

The turian grimaced at her bad joke, mandibles tucking in and sharp teeth flashing slightly. To most humans, this gesture would have seemed threatening, but Shepard had learned to read him quite well in the few months since he joined her crew. Of everyone on her ship, she'd grown closest to Garrus, seeing echoes of herself in his deep sense of justice and passion for his work. His sharp aim and lightning reflexes made him an invaluable addition to her ground team, and she couldn't remember the last time she went planetside without him. He was a naïve idealist with the instincts of a lethal predator. While they spent many missions happily trying to one-up each other's kill counts, letting their competitive streaks turn death into sport, Shepard stopped him short of cold-blooded murder. _Dr. Saleon._ Garrus had wanted to execute him, a death more merciful than the one he would have received at the hands of his frenzied victims, but she'd stayed his hand. He didn't understand her decision, not right away, but he'd accepted it. Of anyone she could have run into in the galley, Garrus was the only person she'd be happy to see.

"Couldn't sleep, and if I polish my rifle any more my talons will chafe."

Shepard laughed out loud despite herself, nearly spilling her hot chocolate. Garrus shot her a puzzled look: the translator rarely glitched, but humans had so many figures of speech that it seemed impossible to learn them all. He mixed himself a hot fruity-smelling beverage from the dextro side of the kitchen, and sat down next to Shepard at the mess table. They sat in silence for a while, two warriors enjoying quiet companionship before the looming battle. Shepard's gaze hardened, and her brow furrowed as thoughts of Ilos crept into her head.

"You look like you're a million light-years away, Shepard."

Sighing, she rubbed her elbow absentmindedly. "I just wish I could be prepared for what's coming, Garrus. We have no idea what's waiting for us beyond the relay, what traps Saren and the geth are laying for us…"

"And there's nothing you can do about that right now. You need to rest."

"You're one to talk. You're just as tense as I am."

"Maybe. Still, if anyone can stop Saren, it's you. I almost feel sorry for him…"

Shepard allowed herself to smile, enjoying the certainty in her friend's words. Spoken in that deep turian rumble, she thought she'd believe just about anything he said. She wanted him to keep talking, his voice soothing and resonant, untangling her fears.

"Do you have any good war stories for me? Might as well get in the mood to fight, if I can't sleep…"

"Hmmm." Garrus glanced behind them at the rows of sleeping pods, all of them filled. Shepard followed his gaze and caught his message. They wouldn't do the crew any favours by waking them with loud talk and raucous laughter.

"I still have that bottle of Palaven spirits in my cabin if your tongue needs loosening."

This time it was Garrus who laughed. She couldn't possibly know what _that_ meant to turians.

Drinks in hand, they took up their usual positions in her small cabin. She sat cross-legged on her mattress and he pulled the desk chair up to her bedside table. They'd started hanging out in here more often, playing cards or telling stories, usually when Wrex got tired of their noise and kicked them out of the lower deck. Garrus recounted one of his early adventures as a patrol officer with C-Sec, chasing a drug trafficker to one of the lower levels of Shin Akiba only to find himself alone and outnumbered in a dark sub-passage. Although Shepard had heard this story a few times already, her sky-blue eyes still beamed with excitement when he got to the part where he hid behind a shipping crate, taking down six heavily armed thugs with carefully timed pistol shots and one flash grenade. He'd been reprimanded afterwards for failing to wait for backup, but the pride he felt watching Shepard grin at his exploits far outweighed the sting of his father's disappointment. He would have never thought a human would matter so much to him, those frustratingly argumentative creatures of soft flesh and faces that weren't just bare but _unplated_. From the first time he met her on the tower steps, Shepard had defied the stereotype of her race, strong and noble and determined, steel showing through in her gaze and demeanor. She'd always treated him with respect, rather than the thinly veiled contempt or fear he'd come to expect from humans. Now she was his best friend, his confidante, and the finest commanding officer he'd ever served with.

Shepard stretched her neck to the right, her brow crinkling nearly imperceptibly. _He_ noticed, though, his keen turian senses finely tuned to his commander's wellbeing. They fought together seamlessly, their harmonious strategy a result of long hours fighting endless waves of enemies. She'd knock down their opponents with warp fields and singularities, he'd overload their shields, and the sniping competition would begin. The rhythm of their tactics had become as intrinsic as his heartbeat, and there were times when he was sure he could sense her movements, feel her as an extension of himself. Telepathy had been known to occur between turian mated pairs, and only rarely. Still, it wasn't such a stretch to think that the bond between soldiers could be as deep as lovers: their lives depended on one another. He wondered whether she could sense him too. She'd been injured on Virmire, and the pain she felt in her neck was as obvious as if she'd told him outright.

"Do you want some help with that?"

"It's nothing."

"I thought you were different than most humans, but you're as stubborn as a varren," he said, grinning as he poked her in the tender muscle.

"Hey! Not fair."

"Turn around and sit still." She eyed him warily, one eyebrow raised. "I'm not going to bite you, Shepard."

Careful not to let his sharp talons scratch her, Garrus used his finger pads and knuckles to knead her neck and shoulders through the thin material of her uniform. She felt so strange, so alien. Ropy muscle lay just beneath the delicate skin, strength underlying fragility, with a hard mass clearly palpable in the middle of her trapezius. He focused on this area, pressing with increasing force, eliciting appreciative groans as he felt her body yield to his insistent touch. Slowly, the knot released, and she stretched her arms overhead, turning her neck from side to side.

"Wow, thanks. My neck feels great. I didn't think turians knew how to be gentle," she said, grinning. "Can I return the favour? You've been rolling your left shoulder a lot lately."

"Err… I don't think you could do much for me. My plates aren't very pliable." He was surprised she'd noticed his injury: he'd been trying to hide it so she wouldn't leave him behind on missions. Still, why not? It was her duty as commander to look after her crew, and he saw no reason she shouldn't be as aware of his weaknesses as he was of hers.

"You underestimate me, Garrus." She smiled mischievously, and her hands began to glow with the soft blue light of her biotics. She scooted to the top of her mattress, patting the spot beside her. Intrigued, he sat down. Her deft hands began to unbuckle and remove the armour on his torso, and for a moment Garrus forgot to breathe. "Just relax, I won't bite you either." He laughed, and surrendered himself to his commander's touch.

Shepard had to scoot up onto her knees to reach his shoulders comfortably. Damn, he was tall. She'd studied turian anatomy and physiology during her training, knew that she'd have to get through his thick natural armour to soothe the muscles beneath. She needed enough pressure to relieve his pain, not enough to hurt him or melt his undershirt. Allowing her hands to run slowly over his neck and shoulders, she gradually increased her biotic energy until a deep rumble resounded from his chest. It sounded like _purring_.

"Is that okay?"

"Mmm… yeah."

She suppressed a giggle at the thought of her vicious predator purring like a housecat, and focused on making the sounds louder. She pulsed waves of energy through his aching shoulder until a dull roar escaped his throat. He didn't pull away from her, so she figured it was the turian equivalent of a groan. After lingering on his shoulder, she made soft, gentle circles of energy travel around his upper back, relaxing and soothing him. She continued a while longer, until he began to stretch his muscles and turned to face her.

"Ohhh… I had no idea humans could do _that_. My shoulder hasn't felt that good in ages."

"I need my team in top shape, you know. We may not make it through this mission." Shepard regretted her words immediately. The heaviness of their situation weighed on them, strangling conversation. She sat facing Garrus, listening to the sound of his breathing, realizing with astonishment that she yearned for him to hold and comfort her. She buried the thought, knowing that her best friend was first and foremost a soldier under her command, and to reveal her weakness and fear would be inexcusable.

Garrus was the first to break the silence. "You know, Commander, since we're going on a suicide mission, there's something I've always wondered about you humans." He chuckled. "You'll think I'm weird, but it's driving me nuts, and there's no one else I can ask." She looked up to find him staring at the top of her head, and she knew immediately what he meant. Shepard had caught him glancing at Ashley's ponytail a few times, reminding her of a curious child eyeing a dog's wagging tail.

"My hair," she said, and he nodded bashfully. "It's just so _different_, Shepard. You're the only sentient species that has it." At first he'd found it repulsive, thought that it would be greasy or slimy, but after seeing human women on the Citadel with their hair down he was fascinated. He couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to run his talons through it, whether it was sensitive like his fringe, and what purpose it could possibly serve.

Shepard reached up, removed the elastic and unwound her bun from its tight twist. Garrus gasped as her copper hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders, and before he could stop himself his hand reached up and his fingers were gently entwined in the silky strands, so shiny and smooth and entrancing. Shepard patiently answered his questions, explained that her hair had no nerve endings, that it hurt her scalp if he pulled it, and seemed not to mind him playing with it.

"I had no idea you had so much of it, Shepard. Thanks for putting up with my curiosity."

She laughed, a light girlish laugh he hadn't heard before. "Soldiers have to tie it up or cut it off. I'm glad I could put your mind at ease. I guess I'm just doing my part for turian-human diplomacy."

He lifted a springy curl up to his nose, rewarded by a soft floral scent. "Cherry-blossom shampoo," she said, "reminds me of one of my favourite things on Earth." Shepard tried to describe the achingly beautiful blossoms that exploded every spring in the public gardens. It was one of the few joys she had as a young child, one of the few places a non-citizen could go without harassment. She spoke of long afternoons lying on the grass, watching the light pink blooms sway in the breeze and from time to time float slowly down to the ground, breathtaking and peaceful even in death. A symbol of the beauty and transience of life, ever more lovely for their fleeting lifespan.

"Is there anything I can do to put _your_ mind at ease?" Garrus' blue eyes seemed to be staring right into her soul.

"Knowing you'll be fighting beside me is enough. I do appreciate your company, and I wouldn't turn down another story…"

Something had flashed behind her eyes when she spoke, a trace of need beneath the mask of confidence and invincibility. Emboldened by their physical contact, wordlessly attuned to his commander's subtle cues, knowing how much she carried on her shoulders going into this impossible unknowable mission, Garrus hatched an evil plan.

"Okay, but I need to get comfortable or my shoulder will seize up again." He stretched out on her bed, long legs extending past the edge of the mattress, pillow propped up to support his neck above the ridge of his collar. With one swift motion, he pulled her down beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, her arm draped across his plated thorax. His body felt incredibly warm, radiating soothing heat, and it took all her resolve not to just close her eyes and hug him tightly.

"Ummm… is this normal for turian soldiers?"

"Yeah. Now shush." Before Shepard could protest further, he began telling her a story from his childhood on Palaven, about the joy of swimming in the ocean, running on the beach and feeling the wind rush between his plates. The rumbling of his chest as he spoke and heat from his body quickly lulled her into deep delicious sleep. He didn't wake her until they reached the relay, relishing the silky feel of her hair against his sensitive palm, gazing with wonder at the delicate creature left behind as the fierce warrior within dreamt of tropical breezes and cherry blossoms.


	2. Reunion

**Thank you so much to the people who reviewed: you are awesome. Writing this is crazy fun! My geekitude knows no bounds. **

* * *

The Professor and the Archangel. Ever the consummate strategist, Shepard had combed through every detail in Cerberus' database. These two were the most promising candidates, and she promptly set a course for Omega. She missed her old crew dearly, but at least she had Joker and the doc on board, and nearly everyone was alive and well. Except Garrus. Not even Captain Anderson could tell her what happened to him: after being accepted into Spectre training and receiving accolades for his role in saving the Citadel, he abruptly resigned from C-Sec and his trail went cold. He'd simply vanished. Guilt washed over her as she caught herself wondering whether the turian vigilante she was seeking out could ever measure up to Garrus. What happened to him? What if he was in trouble and she was wasting time recruiting criminals for Cerberus?

The stench of machinery and decay hit her as she exited the shuttle. Omega reminded her of the City where she grew up. Old infrastructure had been haphazardly repurposed and built upon, the resulting tangled alleys and dead ends becoming a cesspool of crime and misery. Instinctively, Shepard's right hand brushed lightly against the pistol on her hip. She glanced around warily. Miranda and Jacob were the last people she wanted watching her back, though at least they had a vested professional interest in keeping her alive.

After a bit of intel gathering, the trio had managed to get themselves hired on as mercenaries to hunt down the infamous Archangel. Three mercenary bands, countless freelancers and mechs, and a _gunship_ all to take down one man? She couldn't wait to meet him.

There was no fear in her now, merely impatience as her body ached for combat. She hadn't felt like herself since her rebirth: she couldn't shake the turmoil of anger and confusion. Shepard's heart pounded as she prowled the mercenaries' makeshift camp, hacking their terminals for credits and sabotaging their heavy mech and gunship. She needed to clear her mind, ease her tension. When the signal came to begin the push across the bridge, she unleashed herself onto her unsuspecting enemies in an explosion of biotics and ammunition.

* * *

Finishing a slow exhale, Garrus brought swift death to one more pathetic excuse for a freelancer. A sickening pile of bodies lay on the bridge below, but the idiots just kept on coming. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd slept, but he was keenly aware of his dwindling supply of heat sinks. _This is it_, he thought. _Let's see how many of these bastards I can take down with me_.

Everything had fallen apart; all his good intentions and hard work amounted to nothing. He'd planned to follow in his best friend's footsteps, becoming a Spectre and joining her in the fight against the Reapers. Shepard was his inspiration, his shining beacon in the darkness of the galaxy, and losing her left him heartbroken and faithless. His world unraveled: the Council dismissed the Reaper threat as a geth hoax, he was reckless and distracted at C-Sec, and the only person who believed in him was dead and gone forever. Her unwavering resolve now seemed like foolish optimism.

He would never change the minds of the Council, could never stop the Reaper invasion, but Garrus was determined to make a difference. His police and military training made it easy to disappear, and his ruthless efficiency in dispatching criminals quickly earned him a reputation and a following. He would honour Shepard's memory with righteous retribution, each death a tiny step toward avenging hers. It was good, for a while.

Now he was outnumbered and overwhelmed, a lone warrior fighting to the bitter end. Garrus prayed silently to Shepard's spirit, willing her strength and determination to help him hold out just a little while longer. Although he was always aware of her presence within him, he could _feel_ her now, almost as though she was fighting by his side once again. _Stay with me, Shepard._

Glancing again through the scope of his rifle, he knew he must be hallucinating from exhaustion: behind the crates at the far end of the bridge he spied an armoured figure that looked just like her. He couldn't see her features beneath the helmet, but her graceful movements were unmistakable. _Coming for me so soon, my angel?_ He tried to find peace within himself, preparing to die with what honour he could muster. A dazzling burst of blue on the bridge below shook him from his reverie, and the realization that he might survive hit him like a grenade.

_

* * *

Garrus. The Archangel is Garrus! _Shepard demolished small armies of mercenaries with giddy joy, gleefully executing crushing biotic blows and perfect headshots. They were linked together again, the unspoken bond between them allowing her to sense his health, his state of mind if he let her. There was something very different about him now: his youthful brashness and optimism replaced by something much darker. Still, he was alive and they had an escape plan: everything else could be sorted out later. With Garrus at her side, the universe might finally feel right again. After closing off the mercs' access tunnels, Shepard practically floated back up the staircase to rejoin her team.

Phantom pain tore through her like lightning: Garrus was badly hurt. Guns blazing, she crashed through the doorway and found him lying in a pool of dark blue blood. Shepard had always kept calm even in the most trying situations, but the sight of her friend gunned down was more than she could bear. Enraged, she leapt out from cover and unloaded her missile launcher at the gunship's fuel tank. A valkyrie engulfed in cerulean fury, she unleashed a warp field powerful enough to kill the pilot and send the craft spinning downward in a fiery blaze.

Rushing to Garrus' side in a panic, Shepard began to empty all the medi-gel she had onto his gaping wounds. "Why the hell didn't you protect him," she screamed at Miranda and Jacob, "get evac here _now_ and have the medbay ready!"

Shepard had run out of medi-gel and Garrus was still bleeding. Her attempts to tamponade the wound were ineffective, and her team still wasn't back with the shuttle. She felt his pulse below his uninjured mandible, and it grew threadier by the moment. _No_. _Please. Stay with me._

Frantic, she pulled her tanto from its hidden sheath, using the sharp blade to help her friend in the only way she could. Little krogan, they'd called her at the Academy: her regenerative abilities were superhuman. During the battle on Elysium, her right shoulder had been torn apart by shrapnel and was nearly normal within a few hours. Even the deep scarring left by Cerberus' reconstruction had almost vanished. Human blood might cause anaphylaxis in a turian, but she was sure he'd come into contact with it before: had he always worn gloves when field-dressing her wounds? Hadn't he accidentally broken her nose once when they were sparring?

Garrus was dying in front of her: she had no choice. Ripping off her glove, she made a deep vertical cut into her left wrist, flaying open the radial artery without transecting it. Red blood spilled onto his wounds, turning them a lovely shade of purple and finally slowing the bleeding. _Better than medi-gel_.

_Please. Stay with me. I can't lose you._


	3. Calibrations

Garrus awoke with the worst headache of his life. He couldn't shake the image of a tear-streaked Shepard hovering over him, pleading with him not to leave her. Searing pain and a quick glance around the medbay told him this wasn't a dream, that he'd survived the ambush and was now aboard some sort of starship. The familiar face of Dr. Chakwas leaned over him and smiled.

"… reconstructed you with plating and cybernetics, you see, although it's remarkable you survived. I think Shepard used up all her medi-gel just to keep you alive until we could evacuate you." She didn't get far into her explanation when Garrus demanded to know where the commander was.

"Waiting to see you, I'd expect. We had to shoo her up to the CIC: she was pacing outside the medbay and distracting me from your surgery." Just like Shepard, always worrying about him. Still, he'd never seen her break down like she had before he blacked out. Pride swelled in him that he meant so much to her, but he was concerned about her emotional state. The Shepard he knew would never fall apart on the battlefield. What the hell did Cerberus do to her?

Garrus did his best to put on a cocky swagger as he approached his former commander. Seeing Shepard smile was worth the pain of laughing when she teased him. After a few pleasantries, Jacob got the hint and left them alone to catch up.

"You know what I've been up to, Shepard. What happened to you?"

"It's been… surreal. I'm glad Cerberus brought me back, but I don't trust them and I'm sure as hell not working for them. I'm still trying to figure things out. A lot changed in two years."

For a moment, their eyes met and they stood in silence. For an instant, their smiles faded and they both let down their guard, just a little. Garrus radiated hurt and anger; he saw pain behind Shepard's cool gaze. Wanting to reach out to her, numbed by loss and betrayal, he spoke the only words he could find.

"I'm here if you need me, Shepard. I always will be."

* * *

Proudly, Shepard wandered the corridors of her shiny new ship. Although it irritated her to be following the orders of the Illusive Man, building her army gave her purpose, clear and achievable goals. Preventing the annihilation of civilization by an unstoppable race of sentient machines seemed impossible. Recruiting gave her a sense of accomplishment, and having a ship full of interesting new allies meant she could spend her spare time getting to know them instead of being alone with her Prothean nightmares.

It wasn't the same as the old Normandy: she had new companions, but she missed her friends. Ash was dead, Kaiden hated her for working with Cerberus, and shy Liara had become sadistic and vengeful. Tali had grown into a fierce and brilliant young woman, but was consumed by her work. A visit to Wrex might do her some good: she'd heard he was rebuilding his clan on Tuchanka.

She was initially overjoyed when Garrus rejoined her, and there was no one she'd rather have on her six during a firefight. As soon as he recovered, she started bringing him along on every mission. He'd even wanted to come along when she recruited Mordin in the plague zone, and Dr. Chakwas had to help her talk him out of it. He never let her down on the battlefield: his deadly aim and lightning reflexes surpassed anything she'd ever seen. Shepard felt selfish for wanting more from him, for wanting her best friend back.

While she appreciated the work he'd done to upgrade the Normandy's weaponry, he'd been pouring all his energy into those damned guns, sequestering himself in the main battery. He was just so distant, so closed off. Whenever she tried to talk to him he'd push her away, fussing about endless calibrations. Outside of battle, her mind couldn't feel his presence anymore. She wondered whether this was deliberate, or if he was even aware of her ability to sense him. Beneath his detached affect she could tell he seethed with hatred: she'd learned to read turian body language from him, after all. When he was tired he'd let his mental barrier down a bit and she got vague glimpses of the betrayal that haunted him.

As much as Shepard hated to admit it, she had to agree with Kelly: she just wanted to hold Garrus and tell him everything would be all right.


	4. Betrayal

Fuming, Garrus gripped the railing to keep himself from lashing out at Shepard. How _dare _she stop him from taking revenge? This was his one chance to make things right, to avenge the ten men Sidonis condemned to death with his deceit. He'd been betrayed yet again, this time by the only person he still trusted. He couldn't talk to her, couldn't even look at her. The way she lingered next to him, quietly waiting for him to say something, was maddening.

"I'm not ready to talk about this, Shepard."

"Okay." No smug lecture this time, not like when she'd stopped him from executing Dr. Saleon. No platitudes about doing things the right way. She just stood there, staring at him with her blue eyes wide, full of an emotion that he couldn't quite place.

"I should probably take off for a while. I shouldn't be around other people right now." Garrus entertained thoughts of disappearing to one of the Citadel's lower wards, getting drunk, and finding some thugs to pick a fight with. He needed to get numb and hit something. Hard.

"Maybe I can help."

"I don't think so."

"You used to ease tension by sparring. Fight me."

"I don't want to hurt you, Shepard." Garrus' knuckles clasped the railing more tightly, enjoying the thought of punching her in the face way too much.

"Don't overestimate yourself." She leaned back with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in incredulity. Shepard really knew how to push his buttons.

"Let's go," he snarled, voice raspy with rage.

"Not here." Tearing each other apart in public would get them both arrested. Shepard opened a comm link to Joker and announced her mission with Garrus would take longer than expected, suggesting everyone take twenty-four hours of shore leave. "The Normandy should be empty by the time we get back. We can use the cargo bay, just like old times."

* * *

Challenging Garrus was a dangerous plan, possibly the dumbest thing she'd done in a very long time. She just couldn't stand by any longer while her best friend was consumed by hatred. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe he was the same young officer who'd followed her with naïve admiration.

How easy it was to forget that two years had passed for everyone else while she lay dead. He'd grown into the most deadly warrior she'd ever known, but his ordeal left him scarred and hardened. She respected the man he'd become, saw him now as her equal and not her student, yet she broke her promise to him when she stopped him from killing Sidonis. Garrus was badass made flesh and armour, but she couldn't bring herself to accept that he would kill in cold blood.

Shepard was determined to help him face his demons, see the good man he truly was. See what she saw in him. _Oh._

* * *

Not a word was spoken as they took the shuttle back to the Normandy and set up sparring mats in the cargo bay. Shepard was all business as she stripped off her armour, the tight fabric beneath far less restrictive for hand-to-hand combat. They moved to the edge of the mats, bowing before entering the ring in accordance with her customs.

"Alright, old rules apply. No biotics, no talons. No permanent damage."

"Done." Garrus had the advantage: his natural plating provided far more protection than human skin. His underweave served little purpose beyond modesty and warmth. Next to him, Shepard looked downright fragile. Without her exoskeleton, it was hard to believe her tiny frame belonged to one of the galaxy's greatest soldiers.

Assuming a defensive stance, she floated lightly on the balls of her feet, waiting for his attack. Like prey. Garrus took the bait: he growled and lunged straight at her. Dancing away, she landed a roundhouse kick to his vulnerable midsection. Angered but unhurt, he whirled around to face her, mandibles flaring with aggression. This futile cycle continued for a while: Shepard darting away from the turian's increasingly frenzied attacks, bringing Garrus to a crescendo of frustration and fury.

She had the speed and reflexes of a karateka, but he had the power and momentum of a freight train. Eventually, one of his lunges caught her off-guard, knocking the wind out of her as he pinned her to the mat. She'd managed to wrap her legs around his waist, allowing her to thrust her hips and flip a surprised Garrus over onto his back. Hopelessly overpowered, she couldn't hold him down for long, taking the opportunity to land a few sharp blows to his neck before leaping to her feet. Her strategy was simple: she had to tire him out until she could pin him, or manage to gain a chokehold.

The pain of the last few hits shook Garrus from his mindless rage. He couldn't rely solely on predatory instinct: he needed his mind sharp and focused to beat her. How long had it been since he'd fought a worthy opponent? It was exhilarating. Remembering her tendency to favour her right side, he feinted on his next lunge, hooking a leg spur around her shin and bringing her face-first to the ground. Lying prone on top of her, he was momentarily distracted by the scent of floral shampoo mixed with the sweet musk of her sweat. Alien, but strangely arousing. Resisting the urge to bite her (what the hell was he thinking?), he bent her left knee up into a submission hold.

Shepard gave a full-throated laugh. This was unexpected, as was his subsequent shock when she brought her heel down against her hindquarters, throwing him off-balance and using the momentum to toss him sideways. Righting himself, he grinned. He was really starting to enjoy this. She pounced at him but he jumped backwards, sending her tumbling down towards his feet. Reflexively, her body continued through the somersault, legs whipping up to clasp his unprotected throat between her shins. It was too late to stop herself: she contracted her body sharply, with a twisting motion designed to snap the cervical vertebrae of her opponent. She might even have killed the turian, if she hadn't frantically reached out with her biotics to stabilize his neck. Instead, he was thrown head over heels. Rolling swiftly to a crouch, he saw his opponent hesitate. Sensing his opportunity, Garrus swept a leg out to knock her down, pinning her with one fluid motion. She wriggled beneath him, the sensation of warmth filling him as he inhaled her scent once again.

"Okay, you win. Well met, _Archangel_. Looks like I'm buying the drinks later." He kneed her in the ribs playfully, then stared down in horror when she winced. Her underweave was torn in several places, abrasions and bruises showing beneath. One eye was purple and nearly puffed shut, and after examining her more carefully he was pretty sure she had several broken ribs.

"Shepard… I'm so sorry." He'd already fished out an application of medi-gel and was delicately applying it to her bloody left cheek. His gentle touch felt heavenly with the coolness of the gel, and he was careful not to let his sharp talons graze her skin.

"What, this? I've had worse roughhousing with Joker. Give me half an hour and I'll be nearly good as new." She smiled, reaching up to stroke his mandible affectionately.

"Did you mean that, about going out for drinks? It's been a long time since I've been able to relax." Garrus spoke softly, with deep rumbling undertones she hadn't heard since the night before Ilos. Compassion. Tenderness. She was finally getting through to him.

"I know."

"It might be difficult to get any peace, you being the infamous Commander Shepard and all."

"Yeah… I do have an old alias I could use, if you promise not to turn me in, Officer Vakarian."

"Uh-huh." Her hand was gently caressing the skin under his left mandible, a gesture meant to comfort and reassure. Unspeakably aroused, Garrus closed his eyes in bliss and would have agreed to just about anything.


	5. Reconciliation

Phoenix Shepard relished the feeling of scalding water trailing down her naked body. Having a private shower was by far her favourite perk of the new captain's quarters. Her heart raced as she contemplated what she was about to do: take Garrus out for drinks on the Citadel. The thought of it filled her with fear and excitement. _We're just friends_, she told herself. _It's no big deal. We used to hang out together all the time_. She'd always cared deeply for Garrus, considered him her best friend and right hand in battle. It took seeing him mortally wounded to make her realize how much more he meant to her.

She ran her hand over her healing ribs, feeling smooth skin in contrast to the roughness of Garrus' plating. She was nothing like a female turian, he couldn't possibly find her attractive. His alien attributes, on the other hand, were the quintessence of masculinity. His tough exterior, metallic bone and leather in breathtaking hues of silvery gray. His scent, gunmetal and exotic spice. His spirit, a dangerous predator with a deep sense of justice and virtue. Viscerally, she craved him, guiltily enjoying the memory of his body pressed hard against hers. Remembering with a shiver the intensity of his ice-blue gaze, Shepard's breath quickened. Cerberus had revived her body, but Garrus made her feel _alive._ Drying off, she pushed away her wanton thoughts and chided herself that waiting below was a friend who needed her.

Visiting the crash site of the old Normandy had been cathartic: she'd been able to say goodbye to many good men and women, and leave a memorial in tribute to their sacrifice. Shepard had also stumbled across her old N7 helmet, and the trunk containing her few possessions from Earth. Ironic that a fragment of her silly old life could still help her now. Rifling through her clothes, she began to disguise herself in a persona she used a long time ago. Heather gray tank with pretty silver sequins, body-hugging indigo denim, silver stiletto sandals. Artfully applied makeup and biotic-induced curls in her flowing copper hair completed her transformation: no stranger would recognize her as Commander Shepard. She admired herself in the mirror, wondering whether Garrus would notice the difference.

* * *

The being that emerged from the Normandy's elevator bore no trace of the wounds from their sparring match. Her eyes sparkled, her skin glowed, and her hair cascaded down in waves of red and gold. Sunset on Palaven. Transcendent beauty. This was the woman from his visions on Omega, when he'd imagined Shepard's spirit guiding him in battle.

"You look, uh, different," was all he managed to say.

"I took off my ponytail and glasses," she said, laughing a pretty girlish laugh that seemed wrong for Shepard but perfect for the goddess standing before him. "It's a cliché from human movies," she explained to the puzzled turian. "I'll be hiding in plain sight. You can call me Fox."

"Do I get a codename too?"

"Not unless you've managed to alter your ID chip." She smiled mischievously, waving her right arm. "Street kid survival skills 101. 'Fox' is a character I created back on Earth: she has her uses. Bet you no one recognizes me, as long as we don't run into anyone from the ship."

Sure enough, she strolled right through the security checkpoint. They were hardly unnoticed: Garrus could practically hear necks snap and jaws drop every time they passed a human male, and many others as well. He bristled at the attention she attracted, but she seemed oblivious. They took a shuttle to Altara, a ward remote enough to ensure they wouldn't run into any of their crewmates but not so seedy that a human and turian drinking together would cause friction.

Oblivion was a nondescript bar off a side street of an out-of-the-way ward. It was perfect. They settled into a small round booth in the corner, Fox-Shepard insisting she pay for drinks since she'd lost their bout. Garrus found it very difficult to argue with her, and sat back to watch her saunter over to the bartender. Wearing those curiously spiked shoes, she walked like a turian, but her curvy hips swayed enticingly in a manner entirely unlike his species.

Mandibles twitching appreciatively, he gazed at her lustily and wondered what it would feel like to pierce her delicate skin with his teeth. _What's wrong with me?_ He'd never been attracted to other races, not even the asari. Well, maybe the asari, but he'd certainly never mated with one. Thanks to Shanxi, only hardcore xenophiles would even consider relations with a human. But he didn't see her as human: she was the ferocious, deadly, beautiful Shepard, the heat sink to his sniper rifle, rocket to his missile launcher.

_Smooth, Vakarian. You don't have a chance in hell with her._

* * *

The bartender was a tall turian with dark brown plates and white markings in a starburst pattern. Quite handsome, she thought, but not as handsome as Garrus. Since when did she start noticing turians that way? Falling into character, she adopted a more feminine posture and softened her features as she approached the bar.

"Hi." Coy smile. She held out her arm, allowing her credit chip to be scanned. She pretended not to notice his gaze discreetly scanning the rest of her as well.

"Welcome to Oblivion. I'm Tirlan. What can I get for you?"

"For me, a levo strawberry daiquiri. For my friend," glancing over her shoulder at Garrus, "a glass of the best dextro spirits you have." She bit her lip hesitantly. "I sort of owe him an apology."

"Coming right up. Friend, huh?" Shepard smiled and brought the drinks back to the booth. It felt good to let her hair down, so to speak. Femininity had no place in her role as commander, and she was having fun displaying an aspect of herself that she normally kept hidden.

Garrus' drink was the colour of sapphire, and had the distinctive taste of Palaven wildberries. Expensive, but thoughtful. He stared into his glass, his thoughts chaotic: still angry with Shepard over her actions with Sidonis, aroused by her close proximity, and troubled by his feelings for her. They'd gone out to relax, to heal their friendship, but the tension between them was nearly unbearable. Shepard didn't know what to say: Garrus' searing rage had been dissipated by their spar, but he still seemed to be in turmoil, tormented by demons. She wanted to reach out, but her desire made her feel awkward and nervous, unable to find a way to offer comfort without seeming flirtatious and forward.

_This_ was why soldiers didn't let themselves deal with emotions. She was pathetic. She could slaughter a Reaper but couldn't even talk to her best friend. After a second round of drinks, Shepard excused herself and went to find the powder room. As soon as she left, Tirlan strutted over to the sulking Garrus.

"You know, if she was _my_ friend, I'd be treating her with a little more appreciation." The bartender's tone was lighthearted, but his posture was threatening, challenging.

"Stay out of this. Keep away from her," Garrus snarled.

"I didn't see any marks on her."

"You have a human fetish or something?"

"It's the Citadel, man. Anything goes. Besides, they're like asari, without the 'I'm only 150 years old' crap. And _she_ is exquisite."

Consumed by jealousy, Garrus leapt to his feet, squaring off against the slightly taller turian. They flattened their mandibles, baring their teeth and slowly circling one another in an ancient rite of dominance. Shepard returned with a fresh coat of lip gloss to find the two males growling deeply, faces inches apart. Commander Shepard would just step in and blast them with a warp field if they didn't back down. But she was Fox tonight, so she would need to take a subtler approach.

"Tirlan! What's the matter here?" She placed her hand gently on the bartender's chest, distracting him and drawing his attention away from Garrus.

"This… half-bareface doesn't deserve you. He's been ignoring you all night."

Looking up at him with wide blue eyes, she held his gaze until his expression softened. She spoke seductively, her voice melodious. "I know this may not make sense to you, but he means more to me than anyone in the universe. I did wrong by him, even though in my heart I felt I was doing the right thing. He has every right to be upset with me."

"Are you sure about this?" She nodded slowly, told him he was sweet for worrying about her, praising him for his charming bar and wonderful drinks. He beamed and spoke proudly about using real strawberries in the daiquiris, caring about the safety of females. _Looks like human men aren't the only ones this easy to manipulate_, she thought. Watching this exchange, Garrus' expression changed from fury to amazement. He sat back down in the booth, joined a few minutes later by Fox-Shepard. She was carrying a bottle and two glasses.

"Tirlan apologizes for his behaviour, and he gave us this wine as a peace offering. It's a special vintage, safe for both of us to drink. Isn't that great?"

He shook his head. "I don't believe it. You just stepped in between two turian males about to rip each other's heads off, and defused the situation without any violence. And you even got an apology and a gift." After everything that had happened to him these last few weeks, this was final proof that the universe had ceased to make sense.

"What did I say? Fox has her uses."

"You never talk to _me_ that way."

"It's a persona, an act. I would never do that to you. Most people get Commander Shepard, tonight I'm dusting off Fox. You're the only one I can be myself with." There it was. Not exactly a full confession of her feelings, but she felt exposed nonetheless. Her cheeks flushed. Silence filled the air while he digested what she'd said. Unable to find a suitable response, Garrus uncorked the wine and filled their glasses.

"To us," he said, clinking his glass against hers.

"To us." The wine was strong and smoky, with a hint of black cherry.

"I want to move past this, Shepard, I really do, but I need to ask you something."

"Okay."

"Why did you break your promise?" She motioned for him to scoot back, moving to a spot in the booth where they couldn't be seen by the rest of the bar. Drawing herself close to him, she took a long sip of wine and steeled herself to tell the truth. What she said surprised them both.

"I was being selfish."

"What?"

"When you were blasted by the gunship, I thought I'd lost you. That was the worst moment of my life, ever. Including the part where I died. The way you were acting on that mission, it felt like I was losing you all over again. I couldn't bear it. I'm not your commanding officer anymore, and I had no right to tell you what decision to make. I'm sorry." She looked down so he couldn't see the tears welling in her eyes.

"You weren't worried I might shoot you to get to him?" Part of him had wanted to, and that made him even more upset than her betrayal.

"No. I trust you." _And if you had it in your heart to shoot me, I don't think I'd want to go on living anyway._

They sat in silence again, the awkwardness and tension melting away. Garrus wrapped his arm around her, bringing her head to rest against his shoulder and burying his mandibles in her silky hair. She could feel the warmth of his body, hear his heart beating rapidly through the fabric of his dress shirt.

"Are we okay?"

"Yeah. We're okay." _Thank you, Shepard__. I'm sorry. Just stay here in my arms, that's all I'll ever ask of you._


	6. Trust

**This chapter contains more of Phoenix Shepard's backstory. I deviate from ME2 canon here, so if that sort of thing bothers you please skip on ahead. A bit clichéd, but my muses made me do it.**

* * *

Their wine must have been unusually potent: they were both feeling warm and disinhibited by the time the bottle was half-empty. Before long, Shepard and Garrus were laughing and telling stories just like they used to.

"So tell me, who exactly is Fox?" Shepard blushed, embarrassed by what a respectable turian might think about her life before the military. Still, they'd been through too much now to keep secrets from each other.

"I'll come clean, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else. I'd never live down the teasing."

"Cadet's honour." Garrus laughed, holding up both fingers. This was going to be _good._

"Official Alliance records say I survived my childhood by running with gangs before I joined the military. That's not exactly true." His interest piqued, Garrus refilled their glasses. "I did grow up on the street, but I refused to tell the Alliance recruiters anything about my background. They assumed it was because I was involved with criminal activity, that was pretty much the norm for gutter trash like me. I was trying to protect the people who helped me: you can get into serious trouble on Earth for illegally employing a non-citizen."

Disinhibited by the alcohol, knowing she could trust Garrus completely, she opened up to him. Her earliest memories were of a small gang of children she banded with for shelter and protection, more of a collective than a hardened criminal organization. She was just Phoenix then, the little girl who miraculously recovered from serious burns. They'd found her unconscious amid the ruins of a torched warehouse while foraging for salvage. Her 'gang' stole food and clothing when they needed it, and she learned to use her cybernetics to hack into the extranet, educating herself and downloading lessons for the other kids. A few years later, they learned of a group of Sohei monks who ran a school for 'unfortunates' out of their temple. Their strict ascetic lifestyle was difficult to accept, and most of her friends quickly left for their former home. The monks taught self-defense along with a more traditional curriculum, but forbade the use of technology. Phoenix was eager to learn, devouring all of the knowledge she could. Part of her training involved tending the gardens and preparing meals, and having a consistently full belly helped to reinforce her newfound love of cooking.

Looking ahead, Phoenix had very few options. Without citizenship, her only choices for legal employment were to join the military or sign up for indentured service. If they survived to adulthood, most kids in her situation became thugs or sex workers. She wanted to join the Alliance, but without upgrading her tech skills she'd be just another expendable grunt. New implants and training cost serious credits on the black market.

Fourteen years old (or so she guessed), wearing stolen finery and fake confidence, she strode into one of the City's bleeding-edge underground clubs and demanded a job. Fox, she called herself, just Fox. She turned down the offer of waitressing work and told them she was a singer and nothing else. It took every ounce of courage she had to walk out with her head held high, beaming with delight a few days later when her ploy paid off and she was e-mailed an offer to audition.

Fox was a sensation, a tiny siren with the voice of an angel. She sang and danced whenever she could find work, refusing to reveal her full name or identity. The air of mystery only added to her popularity, and after a year she had enough credits to buy the skills she needed to enlist as an officer-in-training.

"You? You sang in clubs?" Garrus was doubled over laughing.

"Yep. Even shook my ass a bit… wait, no, that's not what you think. No funny business." Shepard looked mortified, Garrus just kept on howling. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure.

"Wait a minute. I thought you enlisted when you were eighteen."

"That's what the records say. I told them the truth: I didn't really know how old I was. I passed the entrance exams and they accepted me with no questions asked." It was even worse than that. During her year of basic training, they realized she was also a powerful biotic with extraordinary survival skills and superhuman healing. Fears of an impending war created flexibility in Alliance protocol, and they fast-tracked her to the N program, changing the records to show she'd enlisted several years earlier and had already completed officer's training on a remote base.

"So, how old are you exactly?"

"Dunno. Not counting being dead, twenty-two, maybe twenty-three? Guess that makes you an old man, Garrus." She chuckled, then her face went pale as panic flooded in. "Don't ever tell the crew. They'd mutiny if you told them they were following a kid into hell."

"You can trust me."

"I know." She relaxed, sipping at the wineglass that had somehow refilled itself. "Your turn, Vakarian. Tell me something I don't know about you."

"Wow. I don't think I can top your story." He was still reeling from what he'd just heard. Dazed, he rambled about his hotheaded youth, suffocated by the rigid hierarchy of the turian military. He remembered one particular recon scout who kept getting on his nerves, and their subsequent competition… and tiebreaker. _What did I just say? Get your mind out of the gutter._

Embarrassed, he tried to change the subject quickly. "What about you? You must have had men falling all over you, looking like that."

_Looking like that? _Had he really noticed what she looked like, or was he just reacting to the stares she'd been getting earlier? He'd locked horns with the bartender, but he was always protective of her. Unsure, she played it safe.

"Like a deadly biotic cyborg? Human men _love_ women who can kick their ass." She remembered that Garrus didn't always pick up on her sarcasm. "The only falling they did was when I'd blast them across the room during training exercises." If she'd ever had any hope of meeting someone she didn't terrify, it vanished when she entered the special forces program. She was treated differently from the other candidates, singled out even among elite soldiers. That scared the heck out of just about everyone, particularly since so much of her dossier was kept classified. Some of the rumours as to why were ridiculous (sleeping with the Admiral, android prototype), some only sounded ridiculous (alien cybernetic implants.)

"Come on, 'Fox', there must have been _someone_ special in your life," he asked, elbowing her in the ribs. Immediately he regretted the question, dreading hearing about former boyfriends.

"Not like that. I had good friends, sure. Nothing, er, intimate. That would have meant trusting someone way too much, or finding them attractive enough not to care." She had to admit, there was a brief time on the old Normandy when she wondered whether Kaiden might fit into the latter category. Shepard kept that thought to herself.

Garrus stared in disbelief. How did she relieve her stress? She always seemed so calm and composed. Maybe humans weren't like turians in that regard, but his experience observing them suggested otherwise. He hadn't had many partners, and none of them serious, but a lifetime of celibacy was unfathomable. Sober, he would never have pushed the subject further, but his curiosity and inebriation made him blind to her growing discomfort.

"So, you've never…"

"Nope. Had a few close calls, though." Garrus cringed, bracing himself to hear about gorgeous men chasing after her. "I learned early on how to kick hard and run fast."

"What?" He _really_ didn't understand human mating rituals. One glance at her expression made him realize that wasn't what she meant.

"Street kids are preyed on by all sorts of scum. A lot go missing, but there was no one keeping track of us." Her voice hushed to a whisper. "There was one time, I must have been eight or nine. Normally we'd hide at night, or stay in a group, but the other kids were sick and I had to go to the clinic for medicine. There were six guys. I was going to scream for help when I recognized one of them: he was a _cop_. I hurt two of them with my knife before they overpowered me." Her gaze hardened and a sadistic smile crept across her lips. "That was when I first discovered my biotics. I don't know if any of them survived. I've never told anyone about it. After that I didn't worry about being attacked."

"Fuck." Garrus was disgusted, forced mating impossible for his kind. There was a time when turians thought humanity was a race of amoral monsters. Maybe they were right. Humans had tried to do _that_ to Shepard, as a _child. _ She could sense his burning hatred, as intense as his earlier need for revenge.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you. Maybe there are lines we shouldn't cross."

"No. Thank you for sharing your past with me. Thank you for trusting me." He felt deeply honoured to be the one with whom she'd shared her truth. He was overcome with the need to protect her, to stay by her side, to always be there when she needed him. Garrus swept her into his arms, his mind's eye seeing the frightened child she'd been. Stripped of all her defenses, Shepard threw her arms around his neck and surrendered to his embrace. Burying her face in the leathery skin above his collar, she breathed in his scent and found serenity in his rumbling purr.


	7. Whole again

Phoenix awoke in a strange bed with a searing headache. _What happened last night? _Reaching for her pistol, she panicked when it wasn't there. Her efforts to quickly sit upright were met with a logarithmic increase in headache severity. Moaning, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The single bed was narrower and longer than she was used to. She was wearing civilian clothes, and there was a holo of her among several on the dresser. Wait, what? _Oh._ This was Garrus' apartment: she'd broken in when she was trying to pick up his trail on the Citadel a few weeks ago.

The holo was a nice touch: she and Garrus were standing back to back, one of her knees drawn up sassily, and they were both hoisting their sniper rifles and grinning. Joker had taken the shot, telling them to do a "Charlie's Angels" pose, except that there were only two of them and one was a turian who had no idea what that meant. She had the same holo in her cabin on the SR1: it never failed to make her smile. Her gaze lingered on the other images: sunset on a Palaven beach, and a family photo with what must be his parents and sister. She wasn't very good at guessing turian ages, but the young girl looked to be three or four. His mother was stunning, her silvery fringe reminiscent of his, and she was holding a tiny infant. Baby Garrus! The cuteness made her heart ache. The holos had been too covered in dust the last time she'd visited to notice the details.

Rising more slowly this time, she tiptoed out of the bedroom to find her turian unconscious on his couch. Quietly, she rummaged through the kitchenette, praying to find anything remotely resembling coffee. The shelves were nearly bare, but she tentatively stirred some dark powder mysteriously labeled "Instant" into two steaming mugs of boiling water. It would be dextro-amino, of course, but she preferred the risk of a nasty reaction to the certainty of her hangover. She'd nibbled at dextro food in the past without consequence, her curiosity about the unusual delicious smells outweighing her common sense. The liquid tasted bitter, a bit like chicory. It would do.

Turning back to face Garrus, she saw that he'd managed to prop himself up on one elbow. He tried to say good morning, but a muffled groan came out instead.

"Hey. I, uh, helped myself." He gratefully accepted the proffered mug of hot beverage. "I've never been that drunk before. Thanks for taking care of me." Actually, she'd never let her guard down enough to allow herself to get trashed. Relinquishing control was not one of her strong suits.

"I didn't think Cerberus would approve of me returning you in that condition. I wasn't in much better shape myself. How are you feeling?"

"Desperately in need of coffee. And breakfast." It was 1100h, so they had the better part of the afternoon to make themselves presentable before shore leave was officially over. "After that, I think we're both due for some new armour. That will conveniently solve the problem of showing up to the Normandy dressed in civvies."

"You've thought of everything. I'm still trying to get my eyes to focus."

"Do you mind if I take a quick shower before we go?"

"Go right ahead." She flitted back into the bedroom to use the tiny shower module. Even hung over, her movements were poised and graceful. She'd done her best the night before not to let her inebriation show, almost fooling him on their way home until she walked into a lamppost. After that, he'd carried her the rest of the way, cradling her in his arms like he had at the bar. _Such a mess of contradictions, this woman. Her exterior looks so delicate, but she's tough as any turian underneath. Always calm and in control, but she carries so much beneath the surface that no one ever sees. Except me_, he thought, beaming with pride_._ Now she was in his shower, just a few meters away from where he sat. He pinched himself hard above the collar when his lower plating started to shift, using the pain to distract himself from speculations as to what Shepard might look like without her clothes.

They bought food from street carts as they wandered through the lower wards, allowing them to satisfy their respective dietary needs as they browsed for new gear. Shepard wolfed down two large wraps of a greasy-smelling substance she called a "breakfast burrito." He knew biotics had to take in extra energy, but seeing the tiny female eat so voraciously always made him laugh. Kitted out in brand new armour, Shepard in violet and Garrus in his signature cobalt blue, they pondered what to do next.

"We still have a few more hours. Do you have any unfinished business on the Citadel you want to take care of?"

Garrus thought for a moment about visiting Dr. Michel, but he was enjoying his rare chance to be alone with Shepard. He had no interest in going back to C-Sec headquarters: they'd just sneer disapprovingly to see him travelling with a disgraced Spectre, and they might arrest him if they found out he'd turned vigilante.

"Not really."

"There's something I wouldn't mind doing, if we have the time. Cerberus got most of me right, but they left out one small detail." She tugged at her earlobe, and Garrus remembered the simple metal studs she used to wear.

"I know just the place."

* * *

Spike's shop was definitely not in one of the more savoury areas of the Citadel, but it was worth the trek through the winding lower markets. Shepard marveled at the myriad shops and stalls, more tightly packed together than anything she'd seen since leaving Earth. Tantalizing unrecognizable smells wafted all around her, and the assortment of goods and services on display was dazzling. There were even a few races here that she'd never seen before. She could wander for days in this wonderful maze and still see only a fraction of it. Garrus gently took her hand after nearly losing her when she stopped to gawk at some rachni-woven gossamer fabric.

Eventually they came to a small but tidy shop, wallpapered on one side with tattoo designs and on the other with illustrations of piercings on many appendages she was familiar with and quite a few she wasn't. From behind a heavy velvet curtain leading to the shop's back room, Spike appeared. Shepard's breath caught in her throat: she'd never seen an asari so lovely. Spike was in the early years of her matriarchy, clothed in layers of carefully draped fabrics that parted when she moved, revealing innumerous adornments embedded in her flesh. Silvery ornaments hung from each segment of her fringe, their sparkle a beautiful contrast to her deep purple markings. Gliding over, she gave them a smile filled with warmth and wisdom.

"Good to see you, Officer Vakarian. What can I do for you?"

"It's been a long time, Spike. I'm just Garrus now. My friend is in need of your services."

"I see." One of Garrus' first patrol routes took him through this part of the Citadel, and he'd befriended the shopkeeper after putting a stop to a batarian extortion scam. He'd never taken her up on her offer of gratitude, preferring her storytelling instead.

Spike turned her attention to Shepard. "He's one of the good ones, you know. So, what'll it be?"

"Both ears, and my belly button, please." _Belly button?_

Garrus helped her pick out jewelry. She chose plain metal studs for her ears, explaining that she didn't want to wear anything that could be ripped out in combat. Perusing the assortment of hoops and curved barbells designed for human and asari navels, his eye was drawn to a little butterfly accented in mother-of-pearl. It reminded him of seashells.

"What about that one?"

"It's perfect."

Shepard reclined in the chair in the back room, armour removed and underweave zipped way down to bare her abdomen. Garrus offered to wait outside, but she saw no reason to exclude him. They were both soldiers after all, but she still blushed when she realized he could see part of her bra. In the dim light she hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You don't look like the type who needs an anesthetic," Spike said. Shepard nodded in agreement. She definitely wasn't going to wimp out in front of Garrus.

Garrus watched as the matriarch deftly drove a large semicircular needle through Shepard's smooth skin. He reached over instinctively to hold her hand, but his commander didn't bat an eyelash, let alone wince. He could feel her pain, a sharp pinch followed by a deep burn, and his mandibles twitched sympathetically. The butterfly sat perfectly in the little hollow of her navel, a secret touch of beauty only he would know was hidden beneath her armour.

Shepard emerged into the shop's anteroom fully dressed, only to find that Garrus had already settled her account. A gift, he said, by way of apology for his behaviour over the last few weeks.

"Thanks, Garrus. Now I feel like myself again."

Even though she memorized their route on the way in, she took the opportunity to hold his hand once more as they wound their way back through the maze of the marketplace.


	8. Revelation

"I'm going to Tuchanka, I'm going to Tuchaaanka." Shepard sang nonsensically in the shower, unable to contain her glee. Life didn't get any better than this. She had such a great time with Garrus the other night, although the alcohol made her hazy on the details. She and Garrus were closer than ever, the new Normandy was starting to feel like _her_ ship, and now Grunt and Mordin had given her reasons to visit Wrex on Tuchanka. To top it off, she received a memo that Tali might be available to join her crew. She blared dance music, twirling giddily while she finished getting ready. Thank goodness she'd ordered EDI to turn off surveillance in her quarters: she'd _die_ if anyone saw her acting like this.

It was going to be a great day.

* * *

Oh, Wrex. She was so proud of him, sitting like a king atop his makeshift throne. So much progress had been made in two short years: he'd managed to bring order and relative peace to his tribe in a distinctly krogan way. She brought Garrus along for both missions, thoroughly enjoying the challenge of taking down the thresher maw during Grunt's coming-of-age rite. Mordin's ordeal was more sobering, but it left her with the overwhelming urge to find a classy antique shop at her earliest convenience.

Catching up with Wrex was the best of all. Although she couldn't talk him into coming along with her, she understood why he had to stay behind to help his people. Tired but invigorated, she hugged him goodbye and wished him well. A quick stop to restock their supplies, and she'd be off in search of Tali.

"Hang on," said Wrex, "You talk too much, Shepard. I want a few words with the turian before you go." She sauntered off to browse the settlement's few shops with Grunt in tow. The young krogan was more interested in browsing for females, but none were currently visiting the camp. Wrex stood next to Garrus, overlooking his nascent empire.

"So, the boy scout's all grown up. You've got a quad, sporting scars like that. I'm still better-looking, though." He turned his head to give Garrus a better look at his good side, the deep gashes irresistible to krogan females.

"Good to see you haven't changed, Wrex."

"So, since when have you and the commander been…" and he made some unmistakable gestures that made Garrus frantically look around to make sure she wasn't standing right behind him.

"We're not. I don't know where you got that idea."

"Uh-huh."

"We're not! Shepard and I are friends. Just friends."

"Uh-huh. You were staring at her ass like a hungry varren. The stench of your pheromones was overpowering Grunt's. _Both_ of you."

"Uh, both of us?" His mandibles flared wide in surprise.

"Yeah, it's disgusting. Looks like you haven't changed either, kid." He gave Garrus a hearty pat on the back, nearly knocking him over. On the other side of the varren pit, Shepard emerged from the upgrade shop and waved at them. Garrus shot Wrex a panicked look and ran off to join her.

"Good hunting, boy scout!" Wrex was still laughing when his old friends climbed aboard their shuttle and blasted off for the Normandy.

* * *

Shepard had been having a perfectly nice evening, relaxing in her quarters en route to recruit Tali Zorah. On a whim, she decided to look through her trunk of old possessions: she hadn't even bothered to open it until she needed her civvies. It held mostly clothes, even her favourite sparkly silver dress she used to wear on stage. She held it up and preened in the mirror, remembering the terrifying exhilaration of performing in front of an audience. Her life had been so simple, then.

Memories of the other night came slowly into focus: wine and laughter, then… something else. She'd wanted to show Garrus that a life touched by darkness didn't have to be tainted by it. She needed him to see her as she truly was, not the symbol she'd become.

_Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. I told Garrus. I told him _everything.

She threw the dress across the room, cursing at herself. After all he'd been through, burdening him with her baggage was the worst thing she could have done. She'd tried to ease his pain and ended up being comforted by him instead. Some friend she was. He hadn't spoken a word about it since. Maybe the alcohol had washed away his memory of what she'd said. More likely he was just being a gentleman, or was too embarrassed to tell her what an ass she'd made of herself.

The elevator ride down to the crew's quarters was the longest of her life. She felt like a prisoner walking to her execution as she approached the main battery, not stopping for her usual friendly chat with the mess sergeant. Heart pounding, she steeled herself to find out exactly how much Garrus knew.

The turian stood with his back to her, working intently at his station. His silhouette looked imposing flanked by the Normandy's main guns, a vision of death and ferocity. Shepard nearly lost her nerve.

"Um, Garrus? Got a minute?"

"Anytime, Shepard. What's on your mind?"

"The other night, on the Citadel, we had a lot to drink."

"Yeah, we did."

"Do you remember… everything we talked about?"

"Yeah, I do." _Shit._

"I didn't. Not right away." She shook her head, staring down at his boots. "I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He'd never seen her this anxious before. After finally trusting him with the secrets of her past, she stood before him ashamed, afraid of his disapproval.

_Wrex was just toying with me, wasn't he?_ _Oh, fuck it. I'm so sick of everything in my life going horribly wrong. She trusted me. She was straight with me. She deserves to know how I feel, even if she never wants to speak to me again._

"Shepard. You make me nervous, but you could never make me uncomfortable." He reached up, tentatively using a talon to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Cradling her cheek with his palm, he lifted her head so that her gaze met his, then dropped his mental guard and let her in.

Her eyes opened wide, her breath caught, and she whispered his name as if in prayer. "Garrus."

_So she _can _sense me._ He was blindsided a moment later when she removed her own barriers, and it was all he could do to remain standing.

All sense of time was lost as Garrus and Shepard stood entwined, drowning in their shared consciousness. He brought his forehead down to press against hers, intensifying their bond until it was nearly unbearable. Gradually, they became aware of the sound and warmth of each other's breath as the outside world crept back in. Neither wanted to be the first to end this sacred moment.

Slowly, Shepard brought her hand up to trace his scars. Garrus' purr became more ragged as she stroked his neck and throat. She brought his head down, gently placing kisses down the length of both mandibles while her fingers caressed his fringe. Glowing softly, she used biotic energy to transform her barely perceptible touch into passionate fire. Garrus locked the battery door and froze his workstation with one wave of his omni-tool. Overcome with lust, he swept his beloved into his arms and up onto the console, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Her tongue slid into his mouth, hot and wet and insistent. Garrus tasted blood as she traced the edge of his razor-sharp teeth, intensifying his primal urge to mark and claim her. Running his hands underneath her shirt, he dug his talons into the soft flesh of her shoulders. She arched her back, pressing into him, and sank her teeth into the leathery skin of his neck. He cried out, her pleasure and pain augmenting his immeasurably, overwhelming his senses.

"Is everything all right, Officer Vakarian?" EDI's voice chimed out of the ether.

"Yes, go away!"

"Commander, are you being attacked? Should I call for a security team?"

"No, EDI. Have you alerted anyone as to the current… situation?"

"Not yet, commander."

"EDI, I'm ordering you to purge your records of what just passed between me and Garrus Vakarian. Is that clear?"

"Yes, commander. Have a pleasant day." She could swear EDI sounded amused.

After a brief moment of shock, they fell into each other's arms, unable to contain their laughter.

"I'm pretty sure EDI's still watching us, Garrus. I think we'll have to continue this later."

"Definitely." He brought their foreheads together once again, his deep kiss conveying unspoken promises of more.


	9. Assistance

Shields failing, Shepard dove into the shadow of a shipping crate to excape the blistering Haestrom sun. She tossed a grenade into the latest wave of geth, instantly killing the snipers but barely scratching the heavily armoured primes. This mission was pushing her to her limits, but she was grateful for the distraction. Since she and Garrus opened up to one another in the main battery, they'd been unable to find a way to discreetly spend time together. From the time she'd recognized her feelings, thoughts of him had made it more difficult for her to focus. Now that she was aware of his desire as well, it was positively maddening.

Momentarily distracted, she looked up to find a geth prime less than ten meters from her current position, frozen solid in mid-charge. Mordin. It was the salarian's turn to come along this time: Garrus was always at her side, accompanied by one of the non-human crewmembers. No wonder the Illusive Man always seemed irritated with her. Maybe if she could trust _any_ of the humans on her team she'd be more inclined to bring them along.

"Come find me later, Shepard. Have helpful advice. Hormonal fluctuations impairing combat ability. Could jeopardize the mission." Was she that obvious? As much as she liked the doctor, she cringed at the thought of him offering relationship advice.

Hormonal fluctuations aside, her heightened bond with Garrus had its advantages. Coordinating their attack to take down the colossus was effortless. Taking turns ducking in and out of cover, they moved too quickly for the lumbering behemoth to target either of them effectively. Before long it came tumbling down in a heap of scrap metal. The mission wasn't exactly a success: out of the entire quarian team only Tali Zorah and Kal Reegar survived the geth attack. Still, Tali agreed to rejoin her team, and Shepard felt one step closer to victory.

* * *

Back on the Normandy, Tali wasted no time in making improvements to the Normandy's engines. Shepard was delighted to hear of all her adventures aboard the Neema and on missions for the flotilla. Tali made her dislike of Cerberus clearly known, and was particularly apprehensive about EDI. Shepard doubted the AI had malicious intent, but was irked by the utter lack of privacy aboard her ship. She made a point of visiting Tali in engineering when Ken and Gabby were in the mess hall. Even then, the quarian insisted they speak over by the drive core, where the mass effect fields kept them hidden from EDI's sensors.

"Tali, you're the best engineer I know. I bet you could hack just about anything."

"Thank you, Shepard. What exactly are you asking me to do?"

"It's just… the constant surveillance on this ship is really bothering me. Could you show me a way to turn it off, even temporarily?"

"Sure, that's easy. For me, anyway. I'll help you as soon as you come clean with me."

"About what?"

"You know what."

Shepard turned bright red. "Is it that obvious? Maybe I don't need to worry about surveillance."

Tali laughed. "I'm surprised it took you two this long. There were times on board the old ship when I was sure you were already a couple. Don't worry, most of the Cerberus crew are oblivious. A few of them call you an alien lover behind your back, but they have no idea they're actually right. It's funny, just because I'm in my suit they seem to think they can say whatever they want right in front of me and I won't notice."

"So, what else have you heard?"

"Not much. Kenneth's been spending time with Jack downstairs. Jacob and Miranda are back together but he's upset with her about something. Joker has a crush on Kelly, who's been trying to seduce Thane. He's too busy brooding over his past and drooling over you. Has he told you what 'siha' means yet?"

"Holy… you've been on the ship for two days and you picked up all that? I've been talking to them for weeks and I had no idea."

"Oh, I don't talk much. Mostly I listen."

"Glad you're on my side, Tali."

"It's good to be back, commander. Here, take this." She activated her omni-tool. "There's a program embedded that mimics a maintenance subroutine. Just run it when you need some privacy, and EDI won't be able to spy on you. She'll figure it out eventually, but you should have at least a few minutes completely undetected. If you wait until I have an excuse to go to the AI core tomorrow, I can create a weakness in her neural network that will give you a few hours instead. By the way, I found a recording in EDI's encrypted files. It looked… personal. I deleted it, of course."

"Damn it. I can't thank you enough."

"Anything for you, Shepard." She hugged her friend, delighting in Shepard's newfound happiness and wondering whether she might have the chance to see Kal again.

* * *

Shepard sat alone on her couch, staring at the medical case on her coffee table. Her mind was reeling from the chat with Mordin, the one he cornered her into despite her best efforts to avoid him. Comfortable positions. Anaphylaxis. _Chafing._ She'd wanted to crawl out of her skin and slink away, needing every ounce of resolve to hold her ground and finish the conversation. Only the fear of discovery allowed her to maintain a calm demeanor as she accepted his advice and carried the medikit back to her quarters. She'd already failed miserably at keeping her emotions to herself. Mordin knew, Tali knew, but fortunately none of the humans aboard the ship seemed any wiser. A human-turian pairing was probably beyond the scope of their imaginations, except for Kelly.

Cautiously, as though preparing to defuse an explosive, she allowed herself to open the lid of the medikit and peer inside. Antihistamines and injectable epinephrine sat on top. The vial of balm looked innocent enough, as did the datapad. Gathering the courage to access the files, she stopped abruptly. _What if EDI sees what I'm looking at?_ There had to be a better way. She picked up the datapad with her right hand, letting her palm rest atop it for a moment as she placed it back in Mordin's case. That was all the time it took for her wetware to scan and upload its contents, allowing her to peruse the information without any external evidence. Shepard forced herself to sit down and read e-mail at her private terminal, so as not to be too obvious. After an eternity, bedtime came around and she had an excuse to lie down and close her eyes.

The first few files contained information on human female anatomy and physiology. Accurate, but clinical. She began to access the turian data, and was initially disappointed to find nothing she hadn't learned already. Alliance combat training taught her the locations of a turian's weak points, and she'd already discovered that most of these doubled as erogenous zones. It seemed their reproductive organs were concealed beneath heavy armour, their plates only shifting when sufficiently aroused, and then… _Oh. _

Shepard didn't make it any further through the files, her imagination carried away by thoughts of _her_ turian. She fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning with the most delicious dreams.


	10. Release

**This chapter is definitely M-rated, not appropriate material for youth or xenophobes. It wasn't me, I swear! I just sat down to write about sunshine and bunnies and when I came to, this was on my screen.**

**In case you skipped over the first nine chapters to get to the yummy bits, Shepard and Garrus have developed a bond that allows them to sense one another's thoughts and feelings (hence the italics rather than quotes for dialogue).**

* * *

Pounding his fist against the console, Garrus failed miserably in his attempts to optimize the Thanix cannon's firing algorithms. Never before had a female so dominated his life, the need for her surpassing anything he'd ever known. He still couldn't fathom how they could share such a deep bond, rare among turians and otherwise unheard of in any species except asari. What he felt when she opened herself to him was indescribable, her love a more raw and complex emotion than he'd ever experienced. Turians knew lust and desire, maturing into profound respect between mates, but her feelings for him encompassed all of these and more. He longed to be back in her mind, tasting her passion and finding its echoes in his own heart.

His thoughts wandered again to the information Mordin provided. If the diagrams were to be believed, physical compatibility was in the realm of possibility. Humans were intriguingly versatile but delicate, their anatomy vaguely reminiscent of flowers. As tough as Shepard was, if he treated her like a turian he might tear her to pieces with his teeth and talons. He was aroused by the thought of Shepard's vulnerability, thrilled by the prospect of dominance over such a powerful female. If they were ever going to make this work, he'd have to learn to restrain his inner predator. His hunger grew more feral with each day he stayed close to her, fighting alongside her but unable to express his affection. He needed to be alone with her, away from Cerberus and the constant threat of discovery. Soon. Unable to focus on his work, he passed time by filing the sharp edges from his talons and searching for a legitimate reason to expedite their next shore leave.

* * *

Garrus' terminal chimed with an incoming message. _Re: Our recent conversation. May have a solution to the technical problem we discussed. Please rendezvous at your earliest convenience. Shepard._

Fighting the urge to run to the elevator, Garrus forced himself to go calmly up to Shepard's quarters. Heart racing, he opened the door to find her dressed in her captain's uniform, her expression unreadable.

"Just a moment," she said, "I need to finish this calibration and I'll be right with you." She activated her omni-tool, the lights on EDI's terminal flickering and extinguishing altogether.

Flying into his arms, their foreheads kissed. _A gift from Tali. She thinks we'll have a few hours before EDI figures out how to restore surveillance to my quarters._

_I'm going to need more than a few hours, Shepard._

_!..._

_If Tali knocked out EDI's defenses, I can deal with her hardware. Give me ten minutes and I'll have every camera in here torn apart._

He felt waves of relief coming from Shepard, her fingers stroking his fringe affectionately. _Perfect. Give _me _ten minutes..._ She disappeared into her bathroom, leaving Garrus to the thoroughly enjoyable task of dismantling the ship's surveillance equipment. Feeling Shepard's presence behind him, he turned to see she'd shed her commander's skin and had transformed once again into an ethereal angel. Soft flowing curls tumbled down around her shoulders, and she wore a long gown of white silk that clung enticingly to her curves. Gasping, he tried to reconcile the breathtaking woman in front of him with the nervousness he felt in her, worry that he would find her alien and unattractive.

_You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen, Shepard._

_Garrus._

_Yes._

_Call me Phoenix. It's the only name that's really mine._

_Phoenix._

_Yes, Garrus._

_I love you. I didn't even know what that meant until a few days ago._

_I love you too._

_I know. _Grinning, he picked her up and twirled her around, setting her down gently and nuzzling the top of her head. She felt weightless in his arms. He began to softly flutter his mandibles along her ear, her jawline, and her neck, pausing by her mouth to allow her to kiss him. He was beginning to understand the reason humans were so fixated on their mouths: the reflected sensation of her lips against his plating was extraordinary. Nipping her neck delicately, he forced himself not to break her skin. Tasting her blood would be more than his restraint could handle. Phoenix used her nimble hands to unclasp his armour. He shuddered, remembering the last time she'd done so, long ago en route to the Mu relay. How much his life had changed since then, how blind and naïve he'd been. Maybe if he'd stayed aboard the Normandy with her, instead of gallivanting off to become a Spectre…

_Don't. You were following your heart. That's all any of us can do. _Kissing his forehead lightly, she brought him back into the moment. She used her lips to reciprocate his earlier movements, nuzzling his neck instead of using her teeth. Already she'd learned how to push him to the edge, without sending him over it. Purring loudly, he expressed his appreciation. She tentatively unzipped the shirt of his underweave, his fears of how she'd respond to the sight of his armoured thorax quelled by her emotions. Curiosity. Anticipation. Desire.

Running her hands along his plates, she used biotics to approximate the sensations she received when he touched her. Human skin was remarkable, even barely perceptible stimuli creating intense reactions. Longing to know how every inch of her would respond to his touch, he slid the straps of her silken gown off her shoulders, the garment falling dramatically to the floor. She stood before him wearing only the jewelry he'd given her. His heart stopped. He trailed his fingertips down from her clavicle to the little butterfly in her belly button, eliciting a shiver as he gently grazed her breast. Pulling her in close, he inhaled the scent of cherry blossoms from her hair as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. Taking his hand, she led him over to her bed, kissing his palm and pressing it against her cheek before letting him go. Quivering with lust, she ran her hands along his waist, her deft fingers finding the sensitive spaces between the lighter plates of his abdomen. Hesitating, her fingers hovered over his pants' zipper. Taking her little hands into his own, he raised them to his thorax and placed them over his beating heart.

_Not yet._ _I don't want to hurt you._

_Mordin got to you too?_

_Yes. Some of the files were quite… educational._ Phoenix blushed with their mutual embarrassment, the flush extending fetchingly to her décolletage. He sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning for her to join him. He began to run his talons through her silky hair, astonished by the electric sensations he was creating in her scalp. She responded in kind, stroking his fringe and the sensitive area just beneath it. Gathering her up into his arms, he lay her down gently.

_Guide me, Phoenix_, he said, letting her sense what he meant. She was nervous, unsure, but too far gone with need to stop herself. Taking his hand into her own once again, she brushed against the tiny thatch of hair above her sex, parting her legs slightly to give him access to the warmth beneath. Pleasure tore through her as his fingertip grazed her clitoris, intense to the point of being painful. Reeling, he froze for a moment, willing his breath to slow and his sanity to return. Moving slowly, he used his mandibles to place kisses all over her body, starting with her fingertips and working his way up to her neck, using his long tongue to lick along the underside of her jaw. He continued to explore her, teasing her mercilessly, lingering over the delicate areas of her breasts and navel. Her moans and gasps only heightened their frenzy, until at last he drew his tongue across her sex, slowly and deliberately. She arched her back, legs parting further, her mind an explosive blur. Repeating the motion, he let his tongue penetrate more deeply into her, feeling the delicate membrane that lay beneath. _Mine._ Moving anteriorly, he lapped at her apex, intensifying her ecstasy until she shook with the pulsing waves of her climax.

Garrus lay beside his lover, feeling her heartbeat pound against his chest and her rapid breathing hot against his neck. Placing her hands on either side of his face, Phoenix met his gaze, radiating love and bliss. Leaning in to press his forehead against hers, relishing the afterglow, Garrus was unable to comprehend the sensations he'd just experienced. To his surprise, her desire was far from sated, her hands travelling tentatively to his waistband.

_Wait._ _There's something I need to ask you._

_Anything, my love._

_I've never felt anything like this. You're a part of me, Phoenix. I need you, desperately, but I don't think I could ever live without you._

_You're asking me to be your mate._

_Yes. I want you to be mine entirely, and I want to be yours._

_I already am. I always will be._

Garrus felt his last shreds of restraint giving way. _I can't… hold on much longer. I'm terrified I'll hurt you._

Phoenix reached up, caressing his fringe. _I don't want you to hold back. I want _you. Pulling him down forcefully, she bit him above the collar, drawing blood. Garrus' purr gave way to a loud roar, pressing against her so she could feel his strength. His eyes and spirit were ablaze. She tore at his remaining clothing, overtaken by his frenzy. Naked, he lay atop her, his ridged phallus hard against her taut abdomen. Sensing his need, she turned her head submissively, welcoming the sharp sting as his teeth pierced her collarbone and his talons raked down her back. He was marking her, taking her for his own. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she felt him graze against her, driving her wild with urgency. She cried out, the anticipation causing warmth to build within her. Releasing his bite, Garrus paused for a moment, his ice-blue eyes watching her as though trying to remember every detail. Slowly, tenderly, he lowered himself into her, feeling the exquisite pain as he tore her. She was slick and hot and impossibly tight around him. Feeling her body accept him, her ache replaced by deep throbbing heat, he began to move within her. Moaning, she threw her head back, thrusting her hips as he slid more deeply into her. Consumed by their folie a deux, they found a rhythm together, minds and bodies entwined. Phoenix claimed him as he claimed her, the fire within building to an even greater crescendo. The sheer power of her orgasm, her spasms engulfing him, and the limitless depth of her emotion were more than Garrus could bear as he burst into her in violent climax and their minds embraced eternity.

* * *

Phoenix awoke early the next morning, her body pushed down into the mattress by her slumbering mate. Extraordinarily vivid dreams about Palaven slowly receded from her consciousness. She felt refreshed and renewed: it had been a very long time since either of them slept soundly. No wonder turians used sex to ease tension and blow off steam.

_No. That was definitely not how turians mate. I don't even have words to describe what happened last night. _After bringing his forehead down in a lingering kiss, Garrus slowly disentangled their bodies. Immediately Shepard missed his presence atop and within her. She stretched lazily, enjoying his appreciative gaze. She glanced at the clock: two hours until they'd reach Pragia. Snuggling against him, she felt utterly at peace, lulled by the purr vibrating through his thorax. They lay quietly, enjoying their island of bliss amid the chaos of the mission.

_Where do we go from here, Phoenix? I doubt most of the crew would approve if they knew about us._

_Humans are stubborn, but we're not impossible. You remember the old Normandy: just give them some time and they'll get over it. There's no way I'll ever lie about you. If anyone has a problem they can get the hell off our ship._ Sensing her fierce need to uphold his honour, surprised by her deliberate use of 'our', Garrus swelled with pride. Like in the fables of his childhood, she was his perfect complement, the warrior queen to his noble paladin. _Still, we probably shouldn't make any announcements, at least not until after Omega-4. If anyone really wants to know, the security records will show you weren't in the main battery last night._

_You've got things all figured out, _commander_._

_Damn straight I do._ There was no way he was letting her get away with that much machismo. Garrus put more of Mordin's information to good use as he tickled her ribcage, delighting in her squirming and laughter.

_Hey! No fair._

_How about a shower?_

_Yes, please._ She took his hand and led him into her bathroom. It was small, but had room for both of them to shower if they stood close to one another. Shepard let Garrus wash her hair with the scented shampoo he loved so much. Running his hands over her flawless skin, he seemed contemplative and melancholy. The wounds he had given her in the heat of passion had completely vanished. Marks from one's mate signified deep commitment and belonging, much as humans used bands of precious metals.

_There's no evidence we were ever together._

_Don't be so sure. _Satisfying their curiosity, he reached down and carefully slid one taloned finger into her, feeling her tighten around him as she moaned with delight. _See, you've changed me forever. In more ways than I can say._ Kissing him deeply, she stroked one leg against his thigh and spur, feeling his lower plates shift. Bending his knees, he cradled her buttocks in his hands, lifting her up as he entered her. Enjoying the decadence of hot water running over her skin, she wrapped both legs tightly around his waist as he pressed her back against the shower wall and thrust deeply.

"Rise and shine, commander." They froze as the pilot's voice spoke through the comm system.

"Joker, I'm in the shower!"

"Sorry commander, EDI's sensors aren't working up there. ETA is in one hour. Are you planning to make an appearance anytime soon?"

"_Yes!_" Grinning wickedly, Garrus had pushed himself further into her.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Yes, I'll be down soon." She was pinching her thigh to distract herself from the turian nipping at her shoulder.

"Do you want me to alert Garrus and Jack? Neither of them has reported to the CIC yet either."

"No, I'll talk to them myself. Dismissed, Joker."

She glared at Garrus. _You're evil!_

_You have no idea. If you like, I'll make it up to you. Mordin's files said human women go crazy for this._ He stepped back, bracing his back against the opposing wall as he slid carefully down to the floor. Lying beneath her, Garrus willed himself to relax as his lover sat astride him. This was a popular position among humans, but being sexually submissive ran against all the instincts of a turian male.

Sensing his apprehension, Phoenix leaned in to kiss her forehead against his. _Trust me._ She made slow circular motions with her hips, exploring the sensations as their bodies fit together in a different way. She felt him more deeply within her, and having complete control over her lover's pleasure further heightened her excitement. No longer embarrassed by his passive role, Garrus watched his mate writhe above him and began to wonder what else turians might be missing. Phoenix intensified her grind, tossing her hair back and digging her nails into his waist. Building his arousal, she slowed down just as he was reaching his peak, withdrawing until they were nearly uncoupled. He moaned in protest, but she refused to give him release, teasing his sensitive palm with her tongue while taking him into her over and over again with maddeningly slow movements. She persisted until he could bear no more, leaning down to press her chest and forehead against his as she thrust down forcefully. Rewarded by his breathless gasp, she fucked him roughly, not letting up until they were overtaken by an earth-shattering climax.

_What... what was that?_

_Delayed gratification. I'm teaching you about humans._

_And you called _me _evil. _

_You have no idea._ They nuzzled, preparing themselves for the day. After everything they'd been through, the universe was starting to make sense again.


	11. Unfinished business

Outside the VIP room of Afterlife, Samara felt a twinge of anxiety for the first time in centuries. Shepard had graciously agreed to lure her daughter out of hiding, placing herself in mortal danger. Although she hadn't said as much, Samara was unsure she'd be able to vanquish the Ardat-Yakshi in a one-on-one battle. For eons she'd prepared herself for this moment, meditating and honing her combat skills. She had to be victorious, to cleanse the universe of the monster she'd created. Glancing over at the turian, she was surprised to find him reclining against the wall of the corridor as they waited for Morinth to take the bait.

"Officer Vakarian. You and Shepard are close, are you not?"

"Yes, we are."

"You seem unusually calm. Your species normally does not respond well when those they care about are threatened."

Garrus chuckled softly. "You haven't known Shepard very long. I'd be more worried about your daughter."

"Morinth is a powerful Ardat-Yakshi, quite possibly the most dangerous predator in the galaxy."

"Shepard is… Shepard. This should be fun." The turian was obviously blinded by hero worship, Samara thought. She hoped his foolishness wouldn't interfere with her mission.

Inside the club, Shepard had once again turned into Fox. She wore the same outfit as the other night, a lifetime ago when she and Garrus were just friends having drinks together. Fox's girlish laughter and womanly movements came more naturally to her now. She'd even enjoyed turning heads aboard the Normandy when she emerged from the elevator looking like a goddess. She wandered through Afterlife, being her seductively persuasive self, wondering how long it would take Morinth to notice her. Music beckoned her to the dance floor: she lost herself in the moment, dancing sensually to the pounding beat. It didn't take long until Samara's daughter sought her out, winding her body in tune with Shepard's and whispering in her ear about obscure artists and the lure of power. _Ugh._

Back in Morinth's apartment, Shepard pretended to be interested in her companion's conversation, keeping her talking as long as she could. The asari reminded her of a few smarmy men she knew in the Alliance, entitled rich kids with an appetite for power. Morinth poured on the oily charm, willing Shepard to relinquish herself, wanting to add the famous hero to her impressive trophy collection. She leaned in, her eyes a darkened hypnotic void, ready to capture her prize.

"Sorry, you're not my type."

"What?" Seizing the opportunity, Samara burst in on her stunned daughter and was soon locked in a deadly standoff. She focused all her energy and will, but her vicious little girl had grown too strong to overpower. Suddenly, she felt her inner strength intensify, breaking the Ardat-Yakshi's attack. With one swift blow, she brought lasting peace to her daughter and herself. Samara was shocked: two presences had supported her, a male and a female.

_You're welcome_, said Garrus.

_How is this possible? Neither of you are asari._

_We're not entirely sure. I told you, Shepard is Shepard. Morinth never had a chance._

_Thank you, my love. Samara, perhaps you could help us to understand our bond, once the mission is complete?_

_I have never encountered such manifestations outside my own species, Shepard. I will certainly help you in any way I can._

* * *

The following week passed in a blur of activity: Shepard and Garrus roamed the galaxy, tying up the crew's remaining loose ends and making final preparations for the jump through the Omega-4 relay. Their nights were every bit as busy, wanting to make the most of every waking moment before the suicide mission. Their daily tribulations diminished by the happy glow of love, they reveled in every new experience as they explored the possibilities of human-turian pairing. This particular evening, Garrus Vakarian was receiving a rather lengthy tutorial on the versatility of the human tongue. Once he'd come to terms with the daunting prospect of teeth near his nether region, he was astonished to discover a whole host of sensations heretofore unimaginable. During rare moments of sanity, he wondered whether she'd ever stop surprising him. Confirming his hypothesis, Shepard didn't let him push her away as he exploded in ecstasy, ignoring his pleas for mercy and using her infernal appendage to elicit endless aftershocks of pleasure.

_Spirits, woman. I think I just died. If your species used _this _as a weapon, the Relay 314 incident would never have escalated into war. We'd all have surrendered unconditionally._

_I'm just getting started. Ever heard of tantra? Biotics are supposed to be particularly talented…_

_Ancestors help me. I would have been safer with a nice krogan girl. I wonder if Wrex knows anyone who's into turians?_

She leapt up, pinning his arms and locking her knees against his sides. _No way. I'm not letting you get away that easily. _Laughing, they wrestled on her bed until Garrus found himself prone atop his mate.

_I win._

_Yes, you do._ In a display of flexibility impossible for his own species, she brought her knees out to either side, tossing her hair and arching her back to give him an unobstructed view of… _spirits. _Unable to hold back, he sank his teeth into her back and claimed his beloved. Did it really count as dominance when she invited him so irresistibly? Garrus decided he didn't care.

Breathless and momentarily sated, they lay entangled in each other's arms. He gently traced the edges of Shepard's fresh wounds, already healing before his eyes.

_Phoenix?_

_Yes?_

_I've been thinking about something. Just because I can't leave marks on you doesn't mean you shouldn't mark me._

_It's possible I already have._ Sensing his confusion, Shepard showed him her memory of finding him after the gunship attack. Her grief and desperation were heartbreaking. _No, look._ He felt her make the cut, spilling her regenerative blood onto his wounds, slowing his bleeding and saving his life. Stroking him affectionately, Shepard loosened the bandage covering Garrus' injured side. The plates underneath had lost their clan markings, but were otherwise completely healed.

_Fascinating. You've marked me by unmarking me._

_I've always been unconventional, Garrus. Don't get me wrong, you looked damn handsome with those scars, too. I wonder whether your new tissue is levo or dextro amino?_

_If I can ever look at Mordin with a straight face again, I'll ask him to check me out._ Running his talons through her hair, he pondered the implications of his mate's revelation. He'd felt stronger and more energetic since being rescued by Shepard, but had attributed his vigour to her presence. He reached up to touch his regrown plates: they certainly _felt_ like a turian's. She truly was astonishing, he thought, daring to hope he'd survive the suicide mission after all.

* * *

Exhausted and relieved, Garrus threw himself into his work repairing the ship's engines with Tali. The Normandy had been badly damaged during their attack on the Collector base, but Shepard had once again managed to achieve the impossible. All of the crew had been recovered, and none of the squad had been lost. His own role was considerable, leading the second strike team and fighting alongside his mate in the final battle against the human Reaper. He shuddered at the horror of their discovery, grateful for Shepard's decision. Their decision. He was proud of her for how she'd handled the Illusive Man, his callous words still fresh in Garrus' mind.

"This is your last chance to be true to your own kind, Shepard. Don't think I don't know what you've been up to with that turian."

"You think I'd trust you with a Reaper factory? I'm going to blow this base into oblivion. And if you _ever_ disrespect my mate again, I'm coming for you next."

"Wait. Don't be reckless. I have information, Shepard. Don't you want to know where you came from, what you are?"

She'd motioned for Garrus to cut the comm link. _Not if it means betraying _who _I am to find out. Asshole._


	12. Celebration

Back in Citadel space, the crew of the Normandy was due for some much-needed shore leave. They still had plenty of work to do: despite his displeasure over being denied the Reaper technology, the Illusive Man continued to forward missions of interest to Shepard. There was also the small matter of convincing the Council that the Reaper threat was genuine. Mordin's suggestion of performing cephaloanal extractions was particularly helpful in that regard. For now, her teammates had just survived a suicide mission, and the rest of the crew narrowly escaped death at the hands of the Collectors. They needed to forget the mission for a while, blow off steam and celebrate.

Landing on the Citadel would invite a media frenzy and require endless diplomatic meetings. Omega was too unsafe to let her charges roam around intoxicated, Ilium too dangerous with its bizarre regulations and contracts, and Tuchanka was in sore need of a watering hole. Shepard lacked contacts on most of the alien homeworlds. That left Earth. The non-humans aboard the ship were somewhat apprehensive, but Shepard managed to convince them that Terra Firma represented only a small minority of her species, loud and bigoted though they were. She knew the perfect place: a pub in the City that catered to offworld expats and welcomed diverse clientele. Putting her hard-earned Cerberus credits to good use, she called ahead and reserved the entire bar for the night.

The City was an immense sprawl of tunnels and arcologies surrounding an enormous central garden. Its location near the southern pole made for long beautiful summers and cold harsh winters. While most of the planet had long ago been rendered inhabitable, the City was a relative oasis of life and activity, sheltering the majority of Earth's population in uncomfortably close quarters. It had many names in nearly as many languages: a melting pot of cultures, a more chaotic and disorganized version of the Citadel. Few of the humans in her crew had ever travelled there: most grew up on far-off colonies and were accustomed to wide-open spaces. Shepherding her pack of gawking soldiers through the crowded masses, it was obvious from their expressions that their education on the glorious human homeworld had been sanitized, romanticized. The reality was closer to Omega than Mother Earth. Their arrival during the dark season did little to add to its appeal.

Once inside the bar, Shepard wasted no time in getting the drinks flowing. Before long everyone was feeling warm and fuzzy, and she was pleased to see even the more xenophobic members of her crew talking excitedly amongst the aliens, following Grunt's lead in raunchy krogan drinking songs. Being rescued from liquefaction did wonders for interspecies camaraderie. Thankfully, the bartender wasn't asking any questions about his unusual guests. She'd tipped him generously and asked everyone to leave their Cerberus gear aboard the ship, just in case. Kelly and Miranda seemed to think she meant leaving _all_ their clothes behind, judging by their outfits.

Sidling over to her, Kelly put her arm around her commander. "There's something I just _have_ to ask you. Is there anything, you know, _going on_ between you and Garrus?" The room's bustling conversation fell to a hush.

She exchanged a glance with her turian. _Guess now's as good a time as any._

"Yes. He's my mate." Murmurs began to percolate through the crowd, but no one got up and stormed off. A good start, she decided.

Joker was the first to pipe in. "Does that have anything to do with EDI's malfunctioning sensors?"

"Yep."

"So, that time I called you overhead in the shower…"

"Yep."

"Augh!" The room exploded with laughter, alcohol and humour evaporating the tension their announcement might otherwise have caused. Shepard smiled at Garrus, and felt his relief wash over her. Raising her glass, she proposed a toast, to impossible victories and new allies. It was warmly received and reciprocated.

"I have one more announcement to make. I promised Garrus I'd take him dancing in one of the clubs later. Actually, I ordered him." More laughter. "Anyone who wants to come along is welcome. Otherwise, please feel free to keep drinking here on Cerberus' tab."

Miranda slid her arm possessively around Jacob. "We might meet up with you in a little while. Where are you going?"

"It doesn't actually have a name. You'll never find it without me, let alone get in." She didn't mean to sound cooler-than-thou, but Miranda was irked.

Jacob was as intrigued as the rest of the group. "How exactly does an Alliance soldier know about a place like that?"

"I, uh, used to work there. Before the military. It's a bit sketchy but completely private. What happens there stays there, and we won't attract any unwanted attention."

Shortly after midnight, Shepard set out for the City's tunnels, leaving the older Cerberus employees to close out the bar. Samara had wanted to return to the ship, but Mordin convinced her to come along. For research, he said. She called ahead to Riv, the club's owner and her former employer, to let him know she'd be bringing a bigger group than anticipated. After a short hypertrain ride she led them into the underground passageways. Eventually, they passed an elaborately dressed horde waiting inexplicably in front of what appeared to be a subway access tunnel. Shepard brought one finger to her lips to shush her followers before proceeding. She led the group into a side alley, using her omni-tool to hack a maintenance door that led to an imposing pair of krogan guards.

"Hi, Fox!"

"Hey, boys. You're still looking handsome as ever. Did Riv tell you we're coming?"

"You bet. Go on in."

Entering the club by the back entrance meant passing through a small warren of maintenance tunnels, reminiscent of old submarine hatches. At last they emerged on the balcony of the VIP section, the vast expanse of the dance floor visible below. The focal point was a semicircular swimming pool set against the far wall: amid scores of half-naked revelers sat the hanar DJ. Above him was a platform that doubled as a stage, and behind him a narrow window ran from floor to lofty ceiling, revealing a view of the stars from the far edge of the City's outer ring. Shepard remembered the thrill she'd felt when she came here for the first time, entranced by the music and dazzled by the glamorous clientele. She encountered her first non-humans here, a small group of asari dancers working their way through the galaxy. Before long this place had become a haven for the more adventurous aliens visiting Earth, and tonight was no exception.

Riv rushed out to meet her, a greasy-looking human now in his mid-forties. He reeked of shadiness but had always been kind to her, never exploiting her obvious lack of citizenship to cut her pay. "Fox! Foxy, how are you?"

"Fantastic. It's been too long, Riv."

She introduced him to her friends, by first names only. He grinned when she told him Garrus was her partner. "I always said no man would be good enough for you. Guess I was right. Don't even think about paying for anything tonight, it's the least I can do after all these years."

They settled into the plush couches and leather seats of the VIP section, some venturing below to join the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor. The music was mostly human, with throbbing bass and rough-edged vocals, interrupted occasionally by performances onstage. Dancers in shimmering costumes lined the walls, and acrobats performed daring aerial stunts overhead. Joker sat with Samara and Mordin, providing colour commentary on some of the more exotic moves exhibited below. Grunt and Zaeed were having a drinking contest, boasting about the number of females they'd bed by morning. Jack disappeared in pursuit of a spectacularly pierced drummer. Tali quickly overcame her shyness and was receiving dance lessons from an overly enthusiastic Kelly.

Shepard mingled with the crew and cuddled with Garrus on one of the couches, unable to coax him onto the dance floor. Turians had no rhythm, he said. She knew firsthand _that_ was a lie. He was content to watch the spectacle and continue to drink. Even Legion was dancing, doing a hilarious duet of the 'robot' with Joker. Eventually, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Restless and disinhibited, unable to contain herself as one of her favourite songs came pulsing through the speakers, she set out to show Garrus what he was missing. Several small platforms were conveniently located at the edge of the balcony: Kelly and Tali waved her up as she approached.

Ordinarily, Commander Shepard would never permit such a wanton display in front of her subordinates. Ordinarily, she would carry herself with the utmost decorum and dignity. Frustrated by a grumpy disinterested mate, needing to work out the stress of recent events, Phoenix let herself go free. She let her hair down from its twist, shrugged off her jacket, and proceeded to put on a display to rival any asari. Set to the pounding beat of the club music, her dancing was raw and sexual. Garrus was mesmerized. He wasn't the only one.

"You've been wanting a dance partner all night, siha. Might I offer my services?" The drell had been diplomatically taking turns escorting all of the female crew, showing off his considerable skill. He motioned to the dance floor below.

White-hot fury flared at the edge of Shepard's consciousness. In a flash of blue lightning, her mate leapt between her and Thane, posturing aggressively.

_Easy, Garrus. What's wrong with you tonight?_

Growling, he didn't move an inch. _No one touches you!_ The assassin held his ground with a calm affect, silently counting the ways he could incapacitate a turian with a single strike.

_He just asked me to dance. That's polite behaviour in my culture. Why won't _you _dance with me anyway?_

_I'll look like a clumsy fool. Especially next to you._

_You need to care less about what other people think. Relax. He meant no harm._

Backing down, Garrus apologized to Thane. Shepard gently took him by the hand and led him away under the pretense of showing him around backstage. She mouthed 'thank you' to the drell as they made their exit. Dragging her turian into a storage room, she locked the door behind them.

_What are you doing?_

_You're way too tense, Garrus. The whole point of this is to let yourself go and have fun._

_I can't stand everyone staring at you._

_You'll just have to show them I'm yours, won't you? _She pulled him in close, letting her hot breath tease his chest and tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. The scent of her blood and sweat was intoxicating as he sank his teeth into his favourite spot on her collarbone. He lifted her dress to slide down her lacy underwear, taking her roughly against the wall of the small closet. Phoenix felt his tension ebb away as he found release, the beat of the music thudding through their bodies and drowning out their cries.

_Come on, lover. Dance with me._

They passed Jack on their way down to the dance floor, wearing a grin to match her smeared makeup. "Nice," she said, gesturing at Shepard's bites. She grinned back, one hand on Garrus' waist as she led him into the gyrating mass of bodies.

He _was_ awkward, at first, but he'd always been a fast learner. Shepard moved like quicksilver and felt like heaven, her body winding and writhing against him. Moving in sync with his mate, he let his mind surrender to the music. He was really starting to enjoy himself when the flashing lights slowly began to dim. Scantily dressed men and women were circulating among the crowd, handing out little pots of clear gel.

_You're really going to love this. Come with me._ They retreated to the VIP area, joined by most of their comrades. Shepard dipped her fingertip in the mysterious gel and began to trace his markings. All around them, people were removing layers of clothing and painting one another with designs. As the lights dimmed further the various gels began to glow in fluorescent hues, creating a spectacular effect. Shepard told Garrus to sit down, then sat on his lap as she handed him a jar of blue paint. _Your turn._ Carefully, he drew his clan markings on her with one taloned finger. She'd never looked so stunning. They all took turns decorating one another, random squiggles mixed with symbols from each of their cultures. Unzipping her turian's shirt, Shepard darted in to write kanji over his heart. _Mine. _The music changed tempo, bass-driven beats replaced by dreamy trance as the lights were extinguished entirely. Illuminated by scores of glowing bodies, they joined in the collective frenzy and danced until the rising sun shone piercingly through the narrow window and woke them from their reverie.

* * *

The next day passed hazily by. Shepard gave the crew the day off out of kindness and necessity: the only ones not suffering from a hangover were still intoxicated. Samara, Mordin, and Legion were acting as medics, triaging the worst cases to the sleeping pods. The heroes of the Normandy might drift apart, much as her first team did, but at least they had the chance to celebrate victory together. Shepard regretted not having the time to unwind after her first encounter with the Reapers: the pressing needs of the Council had left no time for relaxation.

Lying in bed and cuddling with her beloved, she exhaled a deep contented sigh. There were still so many unanswered questions, and the looming threat of the Reaper invasion, but she had time to regroup and gather her forces. She had a state-of-the-art warship, powerful friends, and a mate who happened to be the deadliest vigilante in the galaxy. Knowing she was no longer alone against the universe made her immeasurably happy. After a lifetime of searching, she had found her home.

Garrus awoke from his slumber to find Phoenix curled up against him, softly singing an old Earth love song. He didn't speak until she finished, relishing the rare glimpse of the sweet and feminine side of his fierce warrior.

_Where do we go from here, my love?_

_We prepare. Sooner or later, the Reapers will come, and we'll be waiting for them._

_Mmmm. Yes. You know what would really help?_

_What's that?_

_That thing you do with your tongue. I bet_ that_ would stop a Reaper dead in its tracks. You really should practice…_

_Spirits, _she grew more beautiful every day. Bathed in starlight, Phoenix was radiant, her skin shimmering with the faintest golden glow. Nuzzling into her lover's neck, she pulled him into a tight embrace and began to purr.

* * *

**The End**

**(For now, at least. A million thanks to the people who reviewed. I'd like to write a sequel when I can find the time – Bioware's awesomeness gives me so many ideas and I have a lot of 'splaining to do wrt Shepard's abilities. Suggestions? Advice? Please let me know. Thanks for reading!)**


End file.
